Spin Me Sweet Tales

Chapter Thirteen

The king calls me his beautiful bird, and today is the personification of this moniker. I am a bird, caged in his arms. A bird, unable to stop the outside world from behind my gilded bastille. My wings are clipped; my cage is locked.

The maze is the townies and Khaivya's execution site, and while the hedges are over ten feet high and Zamri hides in the center, all of them know their abysmal fate. King Shaharuddin's fingers glide across my waist, following my gown's accents, but I feel his eyes on me like they are shards of ice slicing through my flesh. He watches me as I gulp down my fear and guilt, and I watch as two guards on either side of the hedge's entrance grab the first townie's arms and thrust him into his death.

He was a sheriff in his town, revered and feared, but now he is amusement for creatures stronger than him. The sheriff is an ant beneath mighty feet, and he has nowhere to run. When the two guards throw the sheriff into the hedge, the burly human flies ten feet away from his friends. The other two townies scream for the sheriff, but there is nothing else they can provide him but their fury. Death is on the sheriff's horizons, and his two friends are close behind him.

"Your highness," I whisper.

A tender kiss is placed on the curve of my jaw. "Call me Shay."

"Let him go."

"He will have his chance to survive." Another kiss, lower on my jaw. "This morning, the prisoners in the cell were informed that they can survive their death penalty if they can find Zamri and kill him with their bare hands." The king's breath blows across the side of my face, sending bumps alongside my flesh, and I can feel his smile as he murmurs too close to the corner of my mouth. "You have no reason to want them to survive, but who knows? They may defy the odds and live to see the next day."

"They won't, though."

King Shaharuddin's hand moves from my waist and ascends. Slowly gravitating alongside my ribcage, gracing the curvature of my breasts, but then he gingerly wraps his hand around my neck. He applies the smallest pressure as he tilts my head backwards and our eyes clash. The depths of his black gaze pierce me, and an ache forms in the pit of my stomach. Faintly, I can hear the sheriff screaming from the hedge maze, but I stare only at the king as he leans my face inexplicably close to his.

Lips of sin and desire are a breath away from mine, and I forget how to breathe. He is a monster, derived from the pits of nightmares, but there has never been a more beautiful male than him. King Shaharuddin's eyes flicker to my mouth, and he leans closer.

Yet, before he can kiss me, I plead. "Let Khaivya go. If nobody else can be spared, then please spare her. She did nothing wrong."

"Nothing?" the king inquires curiously.

"Nothing," I repeat.

We are still pressed against one another. His chest crushed into mine; his hand still wrapped around my throat. Our eyes haven't migrated away from one another, even as the sheriff's screams grow louder and louder, and our breaths mingle. We are closer than I have been with a man in years, but neither of us pull away. I should be the one to distance myself, but I stay pressed against his body, and I breathe the air he exhales.

"She spoke too openly to you when she was told not to, and then there is the Junosol petal." The king uses his hand that isn't wrapped around my throat to spin a piece of my lighter hair around his index finger. He is immersed in the sight of my hair, as a secretive smile pulls over his lips. "You are too important to me, beautiful bird, and she almost ruined you. Anybody who plays with my things suffers the consequences."

"I am not yours to be played with," I stammer, but upon his darkening features, I quickly add. "And you don't know if she gave me the Junosol petal."

"Does it matter? You may say my brother gave you the petal, but I cannot condemn my youngest brother. I can, however, blame her, and I am not a forgiving king. Especially when it comes to you."